Postpartum

Sam was born last week.

Lately, I’ve been wishing I were back at the hospital. At the hospital, my friends were there. People were there to take care of me. I felt cared for, cared about. And I liked that they were as worried about my health and Sam’s health as I was. Now that I’m home I’m questioning every little thing, my bleeding and cramping, his circumcision and sleep patterns. I need someone to tell me it’s all right, someone preferably with an RN or MD after their name.

At the hospital, I didn’t sleep much. That’s what happens when you have a baby at the same place you work. But I liked the stream of visitors that came through, recounting my birth story again and again. At home, I’m lonely. There is no one to talk to when Sam sleeps, and I know I should sleep too, and I do, but to be honest I don’t need as much sleep as a newborn baby does. So I play on my phone, stare into space. Or I watch HGTV and imagine my life was different, that I could be a stay at home mom looking for a bigger house for my family, or have enough money to buy a vacation home in the Dominican Republic, or have the guts to up and move to Paris because I had a great time there during my study-abroad semester.

I have made a cocoon for us, for me and Sam, in my bed. We eat here, we sleep here, we stress over how long he’s been awake here. My bed has long been my safe haven, it was during my pregnancy and even before. I feel like as long as I’m here, in my bed, we’ll be OK.

It’s when I have to get up. When I have to get CJ his cereal or drive him to school. (I left Sam for the first time today. For 30 minutes. It was freeing. But it was too soon.) When I have to answer the phone or the door. When I have to turn off HGTV. That’s when life is scarier. A new day brings a fresh start but I yearn for the evenings, when CJ is in bed and Sam and I are in my room, winding down, watching Property Brothers for the millionth time. Even in the wee hours of the morning, when it’s just me and him, I feel like I can do this. Like I can keep him safe and happy and healthy and fed. It’s when the other people in my family wake up that I’m not so sure. There are four of us now. And some of us aren’t adjusting to our additional person very well. There is still so much to figure out.

So I wish I was back there. In the hospital. Where Sam was fresh and new and someone brought me water when I asked and food when I asked and told me that we were both healthy and doing fine at least three times a day. I was safe there. Chris was there with me. We were safe and I wasn’t scared the way I am now, every night, about what tomorrow might bring.

For those of you wondering, yes, I’m taking my meds and yes, I’m sleeping—I get about two naps a day on top of my broken nighttime sleep. But it doesn’t mean it’s easier, it doesn’t mean I feel better about how things are going. Sometimes I feel OK, but mostly I’m scared, and I long for the time when things will get easier.

For everyone who's promised to be “on call” for my delivery...

Dear Participant,

CONGRATULATIONS! You have been selected to be a member of my labor team. As a team member, you’ll be responsible for my ongoing happiness from now until at least 12 months postpartum. Please review your responsibilities* below:

Pre-delivery

• Please keep your phone on HIGH VOLUME from now until the time I deliver. When the time comes, I will need to be able to reach you NO MATTER WHAT.
• I may or may not desperately need you when I call, so be prepared for the instance when your phone rings at 3 AM and all I need to tell you is that I got sent home from the hospital because I wasn’t really in labor and how could they do that to me I’m a labor nurse and I really need a shoulder to cry on, specifically, your shoulder, so come over this minute.
• Also from now until the day I deliver, whenever I’m within earshot, please keep up a running commentary of how good I look pregnant and how my face is just glowing from the 30-plus pounds I’ve managed to gain. When I tell you how fat I feel, just lie to me and tell me that it’s all baby and I’ll lose it as soon as I deliver.

During delivery

• Never leave my side
• If I tell you to go get me some ice, get someone else to do it
• If you get hungry and didn’t have the forethought to bring a snack, TDB
• Don’t complain about how tired you are, or how I’m squeezing your fingers/arm/neck way too hard
• Be prepared to remove any unauthorized visitors from the room
• Be prepared to tell me any and all of the following:
• “Since you’re crying with every step you take, I think it’s OK to stop walking and rest.”
• “You’re halfway through this contraction, would you please just stop screaming?”
• “Pam, I really think you should let them break your water. Seriously, how much longer do you want this to go on?”
• “Please get out of the bathroom and come back to bed. You told me yourself, you don’t want to have your baby on the toilet.”
• “I know you don’t really want me to f**k off, why don’t I rub your back instead?”
• “I think it’s time for your epidural. Seriously, Pam, you told me to tell you and I am. I’m calling the CRNA now.”
• “Stop freaking out. You don’t really have to poop, that’s the baby’s head. Now PUSH!”

After delivery

• Be prepared to wipe me down with hot towels because even though it’ll be my own, blood and vernix kind of skeeze me out
• Convince me to wear the placemat-sized pad I’ll need to keep my bleeding in check even though it crinkles with every move I make
• Find a way to get me a pizza from Papa Del’s without leaving my side
• Stay with me until I fall asleep and then come back before I wake up the next morning. Repeat until I come home from the hospital and 1-2 weeks postpartum as needed.

Please know that I appreciate everything you’ve done for me throughout the pregnancy, and everything you will do for me in the next few weeks. Even if I never say it to you again, your participation in this important event means more to me than anything else you’ve ever done for me, ever. Thank you!

Now go start getting ready. ONLY FOUR WEEKS TO GO!

Pam

*These responsibilities are subject to increase or change without warning.

Desperation

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